


How Stupid Do You Think I Am?

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Betrayal, Confessions, Denial of Feelings, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Slow Build, Waiting, lying, post-shark date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Flint has always known Silver was lying to him about the treasure.





	How Stupid Do You Think I Am?

They haul the shark carcass aboard the ship, the men reaching out with eager hands. Flint tastes the meat on his tongue, savoring the blood. He senses the wind change before he hears it and looks up watching the sails, and then his gaze falls upon Silver.

Silver who’s staring at him with an expression of true wonder, open for anyone to see should they care to look.

Flint’s teeth catch on a piece of flesh and he bites down hard on the fragment of meat, forcing himself to still swallow. All this time Silver hadn’t told him. All this time he had thought Flint hadn’t known.

Flint has always known.

It had been hard not to blurt out the truth when Silver had first told him the lie, lying there half dead before Flint, sweating and wounded and feverish and he still had the balls to look up at Flint with those guileless blue eyes and lie right to his face.

“How stupid do you think I am?” Flint had said to him in his mind that day and many days since.

Apparently stupid enough to believe that lie, for Silver tells it to him and Flint, for whatever reason in that moment lets Silver believe that he _had_ sold it to Flint and so they continue.

*  *  *

Flint makes a bet with himself, playing a game every morning that he wakes. _Will today be the day that he tells me? Will this, whatever it is, another attack, a minor setback, a simple glance shared between us, be the thing that causes him to tell me?_

And every day the answer is no. Every day Silver keeps the lie alive. Every day Flint draws closer to him because of it. He understands the need for deception, the depths of betrayal and the costs of those agonizing decisions you have to make and live with for the remainder of your days.

He thinks of all the reasons Silver might possess for carrying out this lie. The greed for more of the gold? It’s possible. The larger the share, the more freedom Silver would have from the pirates, from the sea, from him.

Flint hears that quiet speech, offered up in Silver’s wry honesty (and that speech _was_ honest, Flint knows that) in his bed at night when he can’t sleep. He waits for Silver to claim that freedom, to make some excuse and take his leave of the ship, of the crew, and of Flint.

*  *  *

Instead Silver stays.

He regains his strength, slowly, day by day, walking too quickly too much on the metal leg fashioned for him, and that too Flint attributes to his need to get away from the ship.

But when Howell insists Silver take a break from the leg, Silver does so. He lies in the window seat looking despondent until Flint can’t stand it, and makes him a crutch.

He had had the wood brought aboard when they were in port. He works on the crutch up on deck uncaring if the crew watches him or not. He can feel their sympathetic glances from time to time, but he doesn’t look up.

“Here.” He shoves it at Silver when he’s finished. “Now stop lying about and get on your feet again.”

“I believe Dr. Howell told me to rest.” Silver raises an eyebrow.

“He did.” Flint tells him. “So?”

The grin that appears on Silver’s lips gives Flint satisfaction in a way he can’t understand and doesn’t want to question. He leaves it alone, leaves it lying quiet in his chest where it rests gently.

Silver practices with the crutch, growing stronger day by day. Flint watches the way his hand grips the wooden handle, the handle he polished with his own hands, and thinks again how Silver has betrayed him and every day stands at his side and smiles.

He takes a step and Silver follows, challenging not yielding and still Silver never leaves the ship. He has opportunities to. He has every reason to. He can’t know that should Flint ever learn of his betrayal that Flint won’t simply kill him and yet he stays.

*  *  *

In the rowboat out on the open water Silver confesses in that audacious, perfect moment, choosing it so well Flint could have kissed his dry sunburnt lips.

Instead he holds back, not truly willing yet to let Silver know just how long he’s known the truth of him.

The wind is picking up. The rest of the crew watches the sails fill. Flint pushes himself to his feet and makes his way slowly down to his cabin, and the welcoming dark.

He stands at the window, gazing out at the sea with unseeing eyes. He can hear the wind in the sails even from here.

There’s a hesitant push of the door and he half turns to see Silver standing there.

“Are you truly going to leave it there?” Silver asks.

“What would you have me say?” Flint inquires. He had known Silver would broach the topic again; he hadn’t expected it quite so soon. He’s not sure he would have done the same in Silver’s place, but he understands the reasoning. Flint’s mood could still be raw, entirely too fragile to be truly angry or too angry to think clearly. Silver’s taking a risk either way.

Silver closes the door behind him. “Whatever comes to mind?”

Flint suppresses a chuckle and turns. “Just how stupid do you think I am?” He asks softly, speaking the words he’s been holding within him for so long. They’re not angry or resentful. They’re truthfully a question he wants to know the answer to.

Silver blinks. He stands there looking at Flint with quiet eyes. He’s pulled on his ragged shirt at least (The shark meat has brought some color back to his cheeks, but he’s still thin and undernourished.) and Flint should say he’s grateful for that, but he’s not. He wants to see Silver’s body, even in its gaunt state.

Silver drops his gaze for a moment. A small exasperated laugh escapes his lips. “How long have you known?”

“Since you lost your leg.” Flint tells him.

Now there’s surprise in Silver’s eyes. “And you didn’t…” He bites back. “Why?”

“Because you’re part of the crew.” Flint tells him. “Because you didn’t leave the first chance you got, or the next, or the time after that. And you had them. Because.” he flounders. “You were there when I lost Miranda.”

He pauses and then says, “I was waiting to see what you would do.”

“What did you expect me to do?” Silver sounds genuinely curious as he comes to stand beside Flint at the window.

“I thought you would leave the ship.” Flint admits. He turns his gaze back to the sea outside the window. The wind dances over the waves and he can feel the ship moving beneath his boots. “I thought you would take your share of the treasure and disappear.”

“It was tempting, I admit.” Silver says, following his gaze. “But things changed.”

There’s a pause and Flint waits for whatever he’s going to say next.

Silver’s eyes remain fixed on the sea. “I…came to…”

Flint catches him roughly by the arm, his other hand winding tightly in Silver’s hair, holding him in place. “Don’t tell me you stayed for me.” He doesn’t want to hear those words, doesn’t want to know if they’re truth or lie.

Silver’s eyes bore into him. “Then let me go.”

Flint’s fingers dig tighter into his arm. “That cannot be the truth.”

“It’s not the whole truth, no.” Silver admits. “But this crew, this ship, you. You are all I have now. It’s not _just_ you.” His words mock Flint gently, almost affectionately.

Flint’s fingers claw at his curls. “I don’t want you to stay simply because you think you have nowhere else to go.”

“You don’t want me at all.” Silver says mirthlessly. “You’ve made that abundantly clear over the days and nights we’ve spent together.”

Flint’s tongue slides out to wet his dry lips. He catches Silver’s eyes watching and he can’t help the rush of heat to his groin, the desire flooding his body like an ocean swell.

“How stupid do you think I am?” Flint repeats.

This time Silver blinks at him in quizzical surprise. “What?”

“You think if you push this, if you press this point between us and I reject you, that at last will give you cause to go, freeing yourself from this ship. From me.” Flint’s grasp pulls him closer until they’re standing chest to chest. “That won’t be the reason you go.”

“Won’t it?” Silver whispers. His breath warms Flint’s skin.

He answers Silver’s words with a kiss, crushing Silver’s mouth to his. If Silver leaves it will be his own choice, his own decision. Flint will not be the cause of it.

Silver sighs against his lips. “Why are you doing this?”

“Go. Stay.” Flint murmurs, curling his fingers tighter in Silver’s curls. “But do not doubt I want you.”

Silver’s hands reach to tangle in his shirt, clinging to him. “Why…are you doing this _now_?”

Flint draws off slightly to gaze down at Silver. “One confession deserved another.”

The look in Silver’s eyes mirrors the one Flint caught up on deck after the wind. The sheer bewildered wonder is there again. This time Flint doesn’t turn away.

 


End file.
